London (England) -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
'I know what you would say, dear lad. They will hang me. It is a most
ungraceful way of going out of the world. One would prefer a feather bed
with dignity. But indeed; have no fears, Will. They will do nothing of
the kind. If Jenny Wilmot made any friends at Drury Lane now is the time
to prove them. But I must think what to do.'
She sat down to the table. There were writing materials upon it. She
took quill in hand. Then she turned to me with her pretty smile. 'Oh!
Will--what a disaster it was that the soldiers came up before the mob
had set fire to the house! What a disaster! If the house was burned the
things in the garrets would have been burned as well and all the stolen
goods would have been destroyed and no trace left. What a disaster!' She
laughed. 'What might have been called my good fortune has turned out the
greatest misfortune that could have happened to me.'
'I must think,' she said. 'I must be alone and think out the whole
situation. It all depends on what should be told and what should be
concealed. That, I take it, is the history of everything. Some parts we
hide and some we tell. I must think.'
I did not disturb her. She leaned her head upon her hand and was silent
for awhile.
'Will,' she said, 'of all my friends there are but two on whom I can
rely with any hope of help--only two. Yet they told me I had troops of
friends. You have heard me speak of a certain noble lord who made love
to me. He made love so seriously that he was ready to marry me. I
refused him, as a reward. Besides his sister came and wept--I told you
the story. I cannot bear to see even a woman weep. Well, Will, this man
is, I am quite sure, a loyal and faithful gentleman, the only one of all
my lovers whom I could respect. I am going to write to him. He promised
me, upon his honour, to come to my assistance if ever I wanted any help
of any kind. I am going to remind him of that promise. The next friend
is the Manager of Drury. He will help me if he can, though he did not
propose to marry me. I will write to him as well. And I must write to my
attorney, who is also a friend of yours. Now, Will I want you to take by
your own hand a letter to his lordship. Go to his town house in Curzon
Street and ask the people to deliver the letter instantly. The other two
letters you can send by messenger. And, Will, one more thing. I believe
you ought to warn Matthew what to expect. Since he is going to be
bankrupt on his own account it will not hurt him very much to be
bankrupt on mine as well. Now wait a little, while I write the letters.'
CHAPTER XV
THE FILIAL MARTYR
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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